A Different Kind Of Beautiful
by alphaangel
Summary: Fluff about how Sara and Grissom met. Please review.


**Ok, so I know that in A La Carte Grissom says that Sara has to many questions on anthropology but I cannot see why an entomologist would be giving an anthropology lecture. I'm sure he would have some knowledge of the subject but he is not an expert seeing as they always call a specialist in so I am using a little poetic licence. Please forgive me and leave a review. And yeah sorry but I had to have a bash at the "how they met" fic, I know everyone else has done it but I wanted to too.**

**A Different Kind Of Beautiful**

"Excuse me." He said, giving up on trying to find the lecture hall himself. She smiled at him, it was quite a smile. "I don't suppose you know where room 204 is?"

"I'm actually going there myself. I can show you." She replied with another smile.

"Thank you. This place is a maze."

"I know, there's no method in how the rooms are numbered." She agreed leading him confidently through a door and down a corridor. "You're going to the entomology lecture then?"

"I'm giving the lecture actually."

"You're Dr. Grissom?"

"Yes."

"You work in Las Vegas? In the second best lab in the country?" Vegas Crime Lab was always being mentioned in the coroner's office that she worked in.

"Yes I do. You've heard of our lab then Miss...?"

"Sidle, Sara Sidle. Yeah, they're always going on about your lab at the coroner's office."

"You work at the coroner's office?"

"Part time, yeah, while I do my Masters. Though, I'm almost finished, so I should probably be thinking about what I want to do then." She stopped talking abruptly as they came to a doorway. "This is it."

"Thank you, Miss Sidle, I would never have found my way by myself."

"You're welcome." She pushed the door open. "Good luck." She stood back to let him in and then took a seat in the front row.

Grissom put his briefcase down beside the podium and looked up at the extensive lecture hall. It was empty apart from Miss Sidle and a young man sat in the back row, well, asleep in the back row. Grissom sighed, there was always at least one who would sleep through his lectures.

He got his notes out while surreptitiously watching Miss Sidle who was taking a notebook and a pen out of her bag. She sat for a few minutes, looking around the room before obviously getting bored and pulling another book out of her bag. A forensic text book, he noticed, one that he owned himself.

He smiled at the comparison between her and the young man sat at the back, one eager and ready to learn, one asleep. One beautiful, one not so. Did he just think she was beautiful? That wasn't an appropriate thought for him to have about a student.

He looked down at his notes to stop himself watching Miss Sidle, relieved when more students entered the room.

He noticed Miss Sidle look up as soon as he cleared his throat, ready to begin. She tucked her book back into her bag and picked up her pen, ready, alert.

As he talked he divided his audience into two groups. The first wanted to be here, they were interested in the topic, took detailed notes of everything he said. The second, a substantially larger group, were here because they had to be, their pens we held loosely in their hands, hovering over empty paper.

Miss Sidle, he noticed, was firmly in the first group. He caught sight of her as he spoke, glancing up from her notes occasionally.

He could feel the room becoming slightly restless as he drew to a close so he hurried though his remaining notes.

"If anyone has any questions please feel free to see me at the end." He said as he came to the end of his lecture.

There was a rumble as everyone stood up and started talking at the same time, all eager to leave. Except for one student, Miss Sidle, who had picked up her bag and was making her way towards him.

He smiled at her as she approached the front of the hall.

"Could I ask a question?"

"Of course Miss Sidle, go ahead."

"How can you tell how old a fly is? Surely there are many variables."

"Your quite right, there are. Temperature has a huge effect on the life of a fly so instead of aging a fly using days, we would use degree days. Every species has a thresh hold above which it will grow, every day at which the temperature is a degree above that thresh hold temperature would be a degree day, and every species has an amount of degree days before it is fully grown. So you need accurate measurement of the temperature at the scene for several days to make an accurate prediction of time of death. For example if you found an adult fly that became fully grown at 20 degree day with a thresh hold temperature of 15 degrees, and the temperature for the last few weeks had been nineteen degrees then you would know that the insect has been alive for five days."

"But how can you be certain that the fly arrived as soon as the victim died?"

"You can't. Instead we find the oldest insect and say that the body has been there for at least so many days. Insects usually find the body very quickly though, and so this time can be used as a pretty accurate estimation of time of death, or at least, the time at which the body arrived at the scene."

"What if the body is buried, what effect would that have?"

"Well, if the body is buried it is much harder for a fly to find its way to it. It generally takes a buried body twice as long to decompose as a body left to the elements, this would need to be taken into consideration when estimating the age of the fly."

"Thank you Dr Grissom."

"My pleasure Miss Sidle and thank you for helping me find this place." He said indicting the room around him.

"You're welcome Dr Grissom."

Grissom watched her leave, fascinated with her mind, with her questions. And, he was embarrassed to admit, her.

Her smile was amazing, lighting up her face, her eyes.

She was beautiful but it wasn't the same as he saw in Vegas, as he was surrounded by even. It was natural, real. Her eyes looked warmly into his as she asked him question after question. And when she smiled, well, he didn't understand the way his heart seemed to swell when that happened.

With Miss Sidle, he thought as the door closed behind her, it was a different kind of beautiful.


End file.
